Duel: The Showdown
Duel, Episode 8
This is Duel: A Tech-Noir Detective Story
Previously: Tyrone Worran is able to partially repair DB431, and Detective James McElroy’s plan to confront Black Zaelland can begin…
Sol II System, Eden, New Chalcedon. 11:30 Local time
James weaved through traffic on Skip’s motorcycle, the wind in his face, his heart pumping hard in his chest. He reviewed the plan in his mind—go to the office, lure Black Zaelland out, flee to the alley. Office, Lure, Flee. Office, Lure, Flee. The office was on the opposite side of the district, and with traffic it was taking long enough that James’ mind began to wander. What if Black Zaelland doesn’t show up? What if he finds Tyrone and DB431 first? His heart pumped hard in his chest.
What if I’m killed?
Then the bad guys win, James replied to himself. He dodged slow moving cars in traffic, desperate to get to the office so he could get out of his own head. A question came unbidden to his mind: What have I accomplished in life?
Stop it, James, he admonished. Focus on the plan. Office, Lure, Flee. Office, Lure, Flee. His heart pumped hard in his chest.
James turned a corner, and his office building came into view. A mix of relief and anxiety washed over him: he had finally arrived, he could focus; he was already in danger, he could not relax.
James’ investigative instinct was on high alert—as he parked the motorcycle, propping it accessibly to the door, pointed the direction he needed to go—he examined the other vehicles parked nearby. Nothing unusual. People walked around, going about their business, oblivious to the terror in James’ mind, the danger that enveloped him, and his heart pumping hard in his chest.
He entered the office building, and went up to the third floor. He saw it, at the end of the hallway: Detective James C. McElroy, Private Investigator on his door. The light in the room was off. Mixed feelings—a comfortable, safe place; a place that was watched, closer to the danger. Office, Lure, Flee. His heart pumped hard in his chest. How would he know that Black Zaelland had found him? He would just look through the inquiries that inevitably littered the floor under the mail-drop.
James unlocked the office door and pushed it open—the mail was already pushed off to the side. He looked into the darkened room. A dark silhouette filled one of the chairs. As James pushed the door farther open, the light revealed him:
Black Zaelland.
James froze. Black Zaelland said, with his faintly electronic sounding voice: “Been looking for you.”
In an instant, Zaelland was up and leapt at James. James instinctively dodged left, diving to the floor and into the office. He looked up at Zaelland, now standing in the doorway—he had a syringe in his hand. “Don’t run.” He stepped menacingly towards James. James scrambled to his feet, but Zaelland lunged, with the syringe—James grabbed his arm, and wrestled with it. Zaelland was unusually strong—with his one arm he pushed James onto the desk and inched the syringe closer to his neck.
James wedged his knee between his body and Zaelland, and kicked out, pushing him away. Zaelland swung the back of his hand, cracking James in the face and throwing him off the desk and onto the floor. James saw his chance—he launched himself out of the office and closed the door behind him. He heard Zaelland open it again, as he threw himself into the stairwell door.
BANG—a gunshot rang out, as the stairwell door swung shut behind him. Three floors. James stepped as fast as he could, and listened for the door opening above him—but didn’t hear it. He skipped as many steps as he could, practically leaping down the stairwell, around and around, until he reached the first floor. He ran out the front door: BANG, BANG—shots rang out in the air, and broken glass fell as Zaelland shot at him from the office window. The motorcycle was waiting just a few feet away. James ran for it—Zaelland leapt out of the window, and landed hard on the sidewalk. James was amazed to see him get up and walk calmly away. James jumped on his motorcycle, looked back one last time, and saw that Black Zaelland had hidden a hovercycle back there. James cursed. His heart pounded desperately in his chest. The chase was on.
James knew these streets like the back of his hand, but his fellow drivers were obstacles. He pushed the motorcycle as fast as he could, turning this way and that instead of crossing traffic and risking getting hit. He could hear the dull roar of the Hovercycle somewhere behind him, but couldn’t look back. BANG, BANG—Bulletholes appeared in cars near him, a windshield shattered—Zaelland was shooting at him! In broad daylight, in the middle of the district! He heard screams, and cries—Zaelland pressing closer and closer, but not able to stop James in his flight.
It was only a few miles to the Alleyway but it felt like an eternity. James’ heart pumped hard in his chest. The wind felt like hands trying to slow him down, trying to grab him, and send him to his doom.
James weaved through traffic, and finally a familiar street came into view. He was close to the alley—had Tyrone and DB431 left? He turned hard, sliding his motorcycle. He glanced behind him—Zaelland was accelerating—he was going to ram him! James pushed one last time into the alley, launching himself down the slight incline. With nowhere to go, he ditched the motorcycle and slid painfully along the pavement, the motorcycle crashed hard into a dumpster at the end of the alley.
James clambered to his feet, and there stood Black Zaelland, silhouetted against the sun-lit street behind him.
“James McElroy.” Black Zaelland called out. “Wrong move.”
“It doesn’t have to go this way, Zaelland!” James shouted in reply.
“It really does. I was hired to do a job, same as you.” Zaelland stepped slowly, menacingly towards James, closing the distance.
“You can still get away.”
Some kind of electronic screech and crackle emanated from Black Zaelland—something that maybe was supposed to be a laugh. “Of course I can. You can not. We find ourselves at cross purposes, James. And you’ve caused me a lot of trouble.” He stopped, and fiddled with his pistol, raising it slowly. “You’re an obstacle. I’m just eliminating an obstacle.”
James was hyper-aware of his gun weighing down his shoulder holster. He wasn’t sure if he could draw it out in time, or what Zaelland would do if he did. He was frozen as tense moments passed like years. Zaelland, bringing up his gun and aiming, James’ heart pumping hard in his chest, marking the eons that passed. Sweat dripping down James’ brow, his hands clenched, ready to fight.
Just then, the screech of tires sounded as a car did a powerslide into the alley—Tyrone and DB431 had arrived! Black Zaelland turned, surprised—James drew his gun. Tyrone gunned the car towards Zaelland, intent to hit him. Zaelland tried to dodge out of the way, James shot at him, BANG BANG BANG.
James ducked out of the way, diving behind the dumpster and the wrecked motorcycle, and heard a sickening crunch as the car crashed into something.
Afterwards—only silence.
Thank You For Reading!
This has been DUEL, a tech-noir serial featuring Detective James McElroy and his Detective Droid DB431. This will be a serial publishing every week because I seem to have gotten my act together! There are twelve episodes tentatively planned, and I reserve the right to end the story as soon as its over and no sooner.
If you enjoyed this episode, please let me know with a like, or a comment! If you REALLY like it, tell your friends with a restack? If you’d like to not miss an episode, be sure to subscribe!
I'm having to catch my breath after reading this which means it was quite well written.
Substack's built-in "minutes to read" estimation did not take into account how exciting this would be.
Phew, GREAT action sequence!! Very well paced!! 👏